


Tracts Of Calm From Tempest Made

by mansikka



Series: Shade Falls On Us [10]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Domestic, Fluff, M/M, POV Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-03 18:36:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12152442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Magnus is worried that the Clave is still interested in what a former Shadowhunter can do for them now they're a warlock, but Alec shows no such concern.





	Tracts Of Calm From Tempest Made

“No, Alec; like _this_ ,”

Magnus hears the annoyed, impatient whine of Madzie’s protest and looks up, hiding a smile behind his hand as Alec turns to look at him in amused delight.

The two of them are on the balcony shooting star-shaped bursts of magic out over the city below, ribbons of bright colors bursting out of their palms and shimmering in the air around them, and Alec is having trouble keeping up with how far Madzie wants him to cast his magic.

“Like this?” he says, and Magnus strains his neck far enough to see the way Alec’s curving his hand, purposely shortening his reach.

“No,” Madzie insists, huffing and turning to him, grabbing his hand without asking and moving his fingers how she thinks they should be positioned. “ _Now_ try,”

Sure enough, when they both raise their hands and send out bolts of magic together this time, the stars—that Magnus assumes if seen by the Mundanes below will be mistaken for impromptu fireworks—extend out an equal, impressive distance.

“See?”  

“Oh, Madzie,” Alec sighs, sounding in awe, “thank you; if I didn’t have you to help me…”

Magnus grins at the tone in his voice and tunes back out of their conversation leaving them to it, turning back to the book he’s reading and summoning his glass with a careless stir of his fingers through the air.

It’s an easy evening between the three of them, with Madzie now making a regular appearance at their apartment for sleepovers whenever Catarina is working lates or doubles. Seeing Alec and Madzie together like they are currently stirs something wistful in Magnus’ stomach, though on second thoughts, he thinks, maybe it’s not wistful. Maybe it’s just a vision of their future that Magnus never even considered he’d ever get to have.

Not that they’re pressed for time on these things anymore, of course, he smiles to himself as he turns a page, or that there’s any urgency for such things. It’s just nice to be able to consider the possibility of a family of their own at some point, is all. Far in the future, he adds, smirking to himself, long after he’s developed the ability to let Alec walk between the bathroom and the bedroom naked without having to jump on him for all that skin on display.  

Far, far in the future then; he can’t currently imagine passing up that opportunity every time it’s presented to him. And besides, Magnus smiles to himself, life is pretty good for them with their extended family as it is.

Madzie is thoroughly enchanted by Alec—when he’s not pretending he doesn’t know how to use his magic properly, of course. When Catarina arrives in the loft with her, Madzie’s first hug is always for Magnus, but then she launches herself at Alec already knowing he’ll sweep her up in his arms and spin her until they’re both dizzy. Every time it happens, Catarina bursts out laughing in delight watching them, Madzie’s giggles are enchanting bells that fill the voids in every corner of the apartment, and Magnus is torn between helplessly joining in, and conjuring images of a younger Alec doing that with his brother Max.

Max is a sore point, with the youngest Lightwood only allowed to talk to Alec through the constant correspondence between the two of them in fire messages and passed on presses of paper into palms. And even though it’s a measure put in place by their parents to actually _protect_ Alec, it still wounds him. Countless nights Magnus has wrapped Alec up in his arms and listened to his stories about Max growing up, hearing the pain of Alec missing him in his voice, and wishing there was something he could do to help.

The Clave are still _interested_ in Alec. It’s been almost a year now since Alec became immortal, yet they are quietly persistent. Attempting to force meetings with him disguised as friendly discussions, yet never in neutral places where Alec wouldn’t be in danger of being ensnared. It’s gotten a little easier, however, since the last time when Alec had relented, thinking to keep them quiet—with Magnus demanding that he go with him, of course. Magnus can almost smile at the memory of it.  

At the smug look on Aldertree’s face—because of course it would be _him_ leading the efforts to attempt to force that contact—Magnus had pinned the three huge Shadowhunters he’d brought with him up against a wall by their throats with his magic, while Alec had calmly stood his ground and recited the Lore to him, pointing out why they had no business with him at all. Raphael and Luke had also attended as a show of solidarity and force, standing silently either side as Alec stood strong, and then repeated in no uncertain terms he wanted nothing more to do with the Clave.  

That the Downworlders they know are in full support of Alec seems to have made the Clave take a step back and rethink their tactics, meaning there’s not been an inquiring fire message for weeks. Magnus is bracing for the next time, though, wondering what else needs to be done to make them finally understand.

But to keep Max from being used as a ruse to lure Alec in, Maryse and Robert have insisted they stay apart. And though it’s understandable, even considerate of them to—very belatedly to Magnus’ mind—be thinking of Alec, it’s a blot on their otherwise beautiful landscape that is one of the few things able to make Alec really frown these days.

Not that anyone would know that with the way Alec’s currently laughing, Magnus smiles, as he watches Madzie try to blast away his stars.  

“You win, Madzie,” Alec says, his voice dancing with amusement.

“Extra sprinkles,” Madzie demands, and Magnus is already raising to his feet and walking through to the kitchen, pulling together all the ingredients for her favorite hot chocolate—that of course the three of them will share.  

The three warlocks stand sipping hot chocolate looking out over the skyline that is New York, with Madzie pressed tight into Alec’s side, and Alec’s hand slotted through Magnus’, and everything feels right with the world.

* * *

“I’m going to work,”

Magnus smiles at both the words and the kiss to his forehead, and shoots his hand out from beneath the comforter to snag around the back of Alec’s neck to claim a longer one that he hums into and smiles harder against.

“Will I see you this afternoon?”

“Lunch,” Alec promises, dropping further kisses along his neck before tucking his hand back beneath the comforter and whispering for Magnus to go back to sleep.

He will in a few minutes. But for now he’s happy to lay in a dreamlike haze, taste Alec’s lips on his even in parting, shifting just enough to feel the ache of him still inside, and to grin to himself at the thought of Alec _working_.

He is, in a way. In fact, Magnus amends to himself with a proud nod, he _is_ working. It’s probably not in a capacity or way Alec ever imagined, but then, what in their lives since they’ve known each other has ever gone exactly to plan?

This morning Alec will be training some new Shadowhunters. Once Alec had felt confident enough in his controlling his magic and they’d returned home, Lydia had contacted them and asked if they could meet. Since then, there has been an unspoken agreement that new Shadowhunters are sent to him for a lot of their physical training, with Lydia justifying that it frees Jace up to lead the majority of missions, and managing to disguise it in her budget as an unnamed external source. It’s always in a neutral location where Alec is not at risk of the Clave showing up to _convince him_ into the experiments they want to perform on him, and Alec always returns home with a pleased, prideful flush to his face, like he’s glad to be _useful_.  

Magnus still has a residual worry that the Clave will find out and try to trap him somehow, but so far so good, and more importantly, Alec is happy; he can’t want for anything more than that.  

And when Alec isn’t training Shadowhunters, he’s advising Downworlders on the Accords. He knows them better than anyone, Magnus thinks, partly for his time as Head of the Institute, and mostly for all that time Alec had spent in dedicating himself solely to the Clave in the past. Whether it means that there are now some Downworlders who are aware of a few loopholes, or it means some of the more heavy-handed Shadowhunters have had to learn to work within the law, isn’t something he and Magnus have really discussed. But it is true, that since Alec started giving this kind of advice, there have been less instances of the Clave having reason to bring Downworlders in for questioning for misinterpreting the law. Which can only be a good thing for overall peace in the Shadow World; not that Magnus thinks the Clave would see it like that.

But Alec is thriving, doing what he’s a natural at; helping people. Definitely not in the ways he might have had planned, but in ways that are possibly doing more good than he realizes, Magnus smiles, thinking of the grudging, respectful ways certain Downworlders now speak of Alec—even when he’s not around to hear it—when in the beginning they’d done nothing but sneer at him in disdain.

Izzy calls him a peacekeeper. Clary teases him about moving on to understanding Mundanes one day. Jace continues to try to find ways to spar with Alec that involve combat that requires his magic, and Alec just… smiles through it all, in ways Magnus has never previously known him to smile.  

Alec knows true contentedness. Magnus is convinced it’s something he’d never envisioned for his life. And the very thought of getting to see Alec have it has Magnus snuggling back into the warmth of their comforter with a smile on his face, drifting off to sleep with vague ideas of where they might go for lunch.

* * *

Of course, Aldertree is just as manipulative and conniving as he had been in his brief period of control at the New York Institute. He eventually lures Alec in because of his compassion; falsely accusing a young werewolf of an assault on a Mundane and refusing to answer any of Luke’s calls to mediate, insisting on Alec’s involvement instead, which makes no sense at all to anyone.  

When he and Alec enter the Institute via portal, Magnus first reaches out with his magic to check there’s nothing that might trap them there, and second takes a sweeping glance over their surroundings, noting that however long it’s been since he last walked down these hallways, nothing has changed much at all.

Lydia is waiting for them, a pinched smile sent their way as she greets them, bristling when Aldertree steps forward and in front of her with his own hello and extended hand.

“The Clave heard rumors that security had become a little… lapse in New York. I offered my services in this case to see if that was really the case or not,” he says, an uncalled for dig at Lydia, who is glaring at him so furiously that Magnus is convinced she might burn holes in the back of his head.  

Magnus glimpses to his side and sees Alec watching Aldertree looking thoroughly amused, his arms stiff behind his back as he still so often holds himself, ignoring the hand still raised before him.  

“I thought we were here to speak about an alleged Mundane attack,” he says, calm and almost disinterested, and Magnus can tell how much it’s annoying Aldertree that he’s not yet made him crack.

“We are,” he agrees, “we—”

“And you believe that this one incident is reason enough to be investigating the effectiveness of the New York Institute,” Alec continues, his tone shifting to something condascending, enough to make Aldertree’s face pinch in distaste.

“It’s not my decision,” Aldertree replies, curt and attempting to inject authority in his voice when he adds, “the Clave sent me, because they—”

“You’re holding a young, inexperienced werewolf, without their pack leader present, two nights before a full moon,” Alec says, scowling, "you are aware of the kind of stress that might cause, right?"

"I—"

"It's irresponsible at best, and barbaric at worst, because the second they turn, you'll find even more excuses to keep them here," Alec continues, cutting him off and turning to Lydia, “I assume you didn't agree to this?”

“I did not,” Lydia replies with scorn in her voice.

“On what grounds are you holding them?” Alec asks, turning back to Aldertree, rolling his eyes as Aldertree begins to reel off a list of meaningless reasons. Alec listens, polite and patient, then nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“What—” Aldertree begins to say, but then Alec’s call connects, and Magnus can hear Luke on the other end of the line, obviously furious despite him not being able to make out a single word.  

“I’ll wait till you get here,” Alec assures him before hanging up, then turns to Lydia and asks to be taken to the holding cell, as though Aldertree isn’t even there. Magnus has a moment of panic fearing that this is the part where the Clave will use force to keep Alec there, imagining Shadowhunters leaping out from behind pillars to capture Alec and drag him off, but then Alec’s hand is slotting through his reassuringly, and he’s tugging him to walk by his side, radiating nothing but calm confidence.

“You were asked to come here alone,” Aldertree says with quick glance at Magnus, falling into step beside them, leaving Lydia to walk behind. Alec waits for her to catch up and gestures for her to lead them, but doesn’t answer Aldertree despite his increasingly agitated questioning. Which, as Magnus already knew it would be, is more about what Alec can do with his magic than anything to do with an alleged Mundane attack.

Once they’re outside the holding cell Alec breaks away from all of them, stepping forward to speak over a button-operated intercom system in a soothing, calming voice that, as he watches through the glass, Magnus can tell is reassuring the young werewolf from the stoop of their shoulders and the fear beginning to leave their eyes.

“Be patient for me?” Alec asks the werewolf, waiting for him to nod, then turning back to them, his eyes falling on Aldertree and his mouth pinching into a line.  

“If this turns out to be a bullshit charge—”

“It’s not a _bullshit_ anything,” he counters, drawing himself taller, “if a Mundane—”

“ _If_ ,” Alec repeats, sounding all out of patience, and before Aldertree can even open his mouth again, Alec is reciting paragraphs from the Accords, chapter and verse, word perfect, leaving Aldertree visibly shrinking before them.  

“So tell me,” Alec says then, loping towards him with that panther-like gait that has Magnus fighting back a smirk and an awkward swallow, telling himself now is not the time to get aroused by such things, “since you don't have a shred of evidence to even _have_ him here, what this is really about,”

Aldertree hesitates for a good ten seconds before gritting his teeth, and sighing. “The Clave just wants to speak to you, Alec. Make sure that—”

“Have I personally broken any of the Accords?” Alec continues, arching an eyebrow.

“That’s what we’d like to find out,” Aldertree answers, just as indignant; Alec looks amused if nothing else.

“So you admit that you’ve got this guy in here on false charges,” Alec spits at him, his eyes glinting with fury, “and you’re using him to get to me,”

“I’m not—”

But Alec cuts him off yet again, reciting even more lines from the Accords, and then starts talking about even more ancient lore put in place during the Time of the Angels, that Magnus has to assume he’s picked up from all the books he’s been reading on the Downworld. He’s like a sponge, worked his way through every book on Magnus’ bookshelves as well as most of Catarina’s, often reading out things to him that Magnus has forgotten himself, or didn’t even know in the first place.

“So the gist of this is,” Alec says then, a tone of finality in his voice, “is that there is no reason whatsoever for you, or the Clave, to have any interest in me at all, unless I commit a crime. There is no lore written that means I’m obligated to submit myself for _testing_ , and you’ve got no legal reason at all for even attempting to contact me,”

“But that’s only because there’s so few Shadowhunters that have—”

“And,” Alec adds, fury lacing through that tone, “considering you terminated my employment the moment I was injured on a mission carried out _for_ the Clave, and I received none of the compensation that I was entitled to, wasn't offered any kind of rehabilitation, or even any offer of support, I owe you less than nothing. In fact, _you_ owe _me_ ,”

Magnus chides himself again for how he’s shifting in the good kind of discomfort for the authority in Alec’s voice, and tries to keep his voice serious. “Alec is also still, legally, under the protection of the High Warlock of Brooklyn,” he announces with a little wave to draw attention to himself, holding back on laughing for the disgruntled look Aldertree gives him. “Any such _requests_ for meetings with Alec would therefore surely need to be directed to me. To be denied, of course; he’s not a lab rat for you to experiment on,”

“We just want to know what he’s capable of,” Aldertree says, all but hissing, and Magnus already knew that, but doesn’t want to hear any more. They want a toy soldier, something that is controllable, and can be used to their advantage, whatever spin they try to put on it. 

“I’m sure you do,” Alec agrees, standing perfectly still aside from a one shoulder shrug. Aldertree looks furious; was he expecting Alec to willingly put on a show to demonstrate his abilities like some kind of Mundane magician with tricks and sleights of hand?

“I trust there’s nothing further you need me for,” Lydia says then, glancing at her phone as though she has a million other, better things to be doing, before turning to the intercom herself and apologizing to the werewolf, promising that she’ll personally bring him something to eat and drink.

“We’re done here,” Alec announces, when Lydia’s footfall is fading away from them, already turning and gesturing for Magnus to prepare to leave as well.

“Alec—”

Aldertree's words morph into a grunt at the fierce hold Alec drags him into that looks effortless, his face as calm as if he were watching TV. Magnus barely contains his laughter.

"I grew up here," Alec says, conversational despite not lowering his grip, "I know every inch of this place, including all the camera blind spots,"

Magnus takes in the furious look on Aldertree's face showing he knows how defeated he is, and smiles at him warmly.

“I expect not to hear from you again,” Alec tells him then, leaning in so he can speak softly, though with an edge of warning to it that no one can pretend not to hear. Then releases him with a shove and returns to the intercom, striking up an easy conversation with the werewolf, who becomes relaxed enough to find the courage to jokingly answer.  

Aldertree is still shaking out the numbness in his arm from Alec’s hold when Luke arrives, visibly backing away from the glare he gives him, his eyes dropping to the official police report in his hand, then sliding over to the cell with slumping shoulders.  

“Let’s go home,” Alec announces after greeting Luke, already reaching out to tangle his fingers through Magnus’, squeezing his fingers as with his other hand he conjures a portal, and snorting at Aldertree’s intake of breath behind them for seeing it, just before they step through.

* * *

“Let’s go somewhere,”

Alec mouths the words up the back of Magnus’ neck as he wraps around him from behind and presses a glass of wine into his hand. Magnus settles back against him with a hum, slipping the glass from his fingers and settling his other over Alec’s against his stomach.

“Where?”

Alec hooks his chin over Magnus’ shoulder and hums like he’s thinking, then mouths along his neck again. “Somewhere quiet,”

Magnus smiles to himself at that, taking a sip of his wine.  

It had taken Alec around three months to trust himself enough to use his magic confidently, and then had followed a month period where Alec had tried adjusting to being back in New York with it, as well as trying to incorporate new things into his life. He’d confessed after their third night out in a row, face down on the bed and muffled drunkenly into his pillow, that he’d assumed he’d want to be more outgoing, more adventurous now that he was free of the Clave, and had immortality to cushion him. But he was still the same Alec that Magnus had fallen in love with, more content living a quiet kind of life with the simple things he already loved doing, and not pushing himself into things outside his comfort zone.  

Their last couple of months have been fairly hectic, with Alec proving to be an effective mediator when it comes to disputes between other Downworlders. He’s calmed tempers in many a meeting, and has even stepped in to quieten Jace when there’d been a dispute about an illegal vampire club opening, and Raphael being indignant when he was falsely accused.  

Raphael has softened to Alec in more recent months, though doesn’t like to show it, instead mutters half-hearted praise about him when Alec’s out of earshot, that has Magnus fighting to hold back an eyeroll for having to listen to.  

And Magnus’ own workload has been a little more chaotic than usual as well, with tomorrow being the first day in three weeks where he has no clients scheduled. So really, it’s the perfect time for them both to be doing something for themselves for a change.  

The air around them feels stuffy, full of smog and pressure, and the appeal of being anywhere else—anywhere else that is _quiet_ , is something that definitely appeals.

“Middle-of-nowhere quiet, or just-us quiet?” Magnus asks, angling his neck to the side so Alec has better access. It’s a good scale to go on, to figure out how much peace Alec really needs.

“Just us,” he says, kissing it behind his ear and squeezing around him, sighing in contentment as he drops his head down on his shoulder. “You gonna be okay being away for a couple of weeks?”

Magnus hides a smile in another sip of wine, casting his memory back to much earlier times in their relationship when Alec had worried about spending two _days_ away from the Institute; how wonderfully things have changed for them since then.

“Alexander; if you told me you wanted to whisk me away for two months, then I would be willingly at your disposal; you know that,”  

“Well,” Alec says, smiling against his neck, “technically, it’ll be _you_ whisking _me_ away—”

Which makes Magnus laugh; Alec can conjure short distance portals with a little effort, but anything long distance leaves him passing out asleep as soon as they step through, which sort of defeats the object. That one he’d conjured for the benefit of annoying Aldertree a couple of months back had been his strongest one yet; that Alec had cleverly sent them directly to the foot of their bed showed just how much attention Alec had been paying to _his_ reactions during that meeting. Even if Alec swears that was just a coincidence, and had effectively laid there letting Magnus do all the work, too tired to move.

“—but how about we say two weeks, then see how we feel?” Alec suggests, pressing his nose into Magnus’ hair.

Magnus closes his eyes, snuggles even more comfortably back against him, and tries not to shake his head for just how truly honored, and lucky he is, for being loved as he is by Alec.  

“That sounds like a perfect plan,” is all he says though, opening his eyes and watching the city with Alec still resting on his shoulder, feeling at peace like he has never known.

***

 


End file.
